


Like Pieces of a Puzzle

by fairyhaz



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom!Harry, Confusion, Fingering, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Religion, Rimming, idk I don't really understand these tags????, there's a bit of homophobia but it all works out, top!Louis, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyhaz/pseuds/fairyhaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry has a lot of feelings he doesn't know how to handle and Louis is always there to help him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Pieces of a Puzzle

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I'm shit at summaries but I hope you like this! Go easy-it's my very first solo fic! It's just over 3.2k words and I have homework to do wow I didn't mean to spend so much time on this. Basically unedited so I'm sorry for any mistakes! Please let me know what you think? Comments and Kudos mean everything. Love you! 
> 
> P.S. This fic in no way reflects my own opinions on religion. I'm not criticizing those who are religious nor am I making a commentary on whether atheism is better than religion or vice versa. This is just a story.
> 
> DISCLAIMER I OBVIOUSLY DON'T OWN ANY OF THESE PEOPLE BECAUSE THAT'S ILLEGAL

“Louis, I think I’m a heathen.” That was how the whole conversation starts. Louis sits there, dumbfounded, as Harry curls in on himself and bites his lip to keep back tears. “Of course you’re not, Haz!” Louis’ gut reaction is to reassure him, to make him feel better. It’s his job, as Harry’s best friend. “What would make you think something like that?” Louis asks gently, gently rubbing Harry’s arm to soothe him. Harry squirms away from his touch, which, okay. Harry almost always snuggles into him the moment Louis offers a place for their bodies to meet, so clearly, something’s really off with him. “I’ve been thinking of things I oughtn’t” Harry confesses, his voice so shy and timid that Louis hardly hears it.

“What sorts of things?” Louis asks gently. He knows Harry, has his endearing mannerisms etched into every crevice of his own mind, and so he understands the importance of being gentle with Harry right now.

“Bad things.” Harry squirms nervously, scared. He’s so nervous, he knows he shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. It’s just. If there’s anyone he can trust with something like this, it’s Louis. Louis is always there for him, always has been. And Louis will know what to do.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” Louis reminds him, and Harry turns red again. 

“God-right, sorry, m’such an idiot.” He mumbles, pulling at his sleeves. His eyes catch the slim silver band glimmering on his ring finger, and he is caught by the burning desire to pull it off and fling it into the nearest river. That ring symbolizes purity and goodness. It’s a symbol of chastity and the sacrifices that Harry’s people have made to be closer to God and Harry wants to be a part of that, truly he does. It’s just that he’s never felt less deserving of that silver loop, or of the matching crucifix around his neck.

“You aren’t, Harry. Take your time.” 

Suddenly, there’s a warm hand clasped in Harry’s, coaxing him to look up and meet Louis’ gentle gaze. Gentle, always gentle. Harry sighs.

“Boys, Louis. I’ve been thinking about boys.” Harry mumbles, his cheeks stained red with the blood rushing to them as his eyes fill to the brim with tears. Little diamond droplets cling like tiny knives to each eyelash, threatening to spill over. His crucifix necklace feels like a chain, restraining him until the moment he tries to break away. Now, that necklace is no longer a restraint. It’s a weapon, constricting around his neck and making it impossible to breath. He’s stuck in a world that won’t accept him and he can do nothing except choke and gasp even though he knowsthat his punishment is a fair one. 

Louis is different.

Louis has never accepted Harry’s martyrdom. He thinks it’s mad, letting the world walk all over you. But Louis doesn’t believe in God, either, so Harry supposes all of his opinions should be taken with a grain of salt. Still, he often envies Louis’ carefree attitude. Louis looks at everything with his own lens, taking the world in through his own eyes. Harry has never been able to do that. Louis sees everything clearly without help. Harry, in the metaphorical sense, needs glasses. And he’s lucky, really, that his parents gave him those glasses, that simple outlook on the world, when he was young and impressionable. It’s just that now, he’s not sure that the glasses fit his perscription. All they seem to do is blur his vision even more, but he’s so sure he won’t be able to see anything without them. Paralyzed by the fear of being blind, he keeps his glasses on. It’s easier.

Louis’ face crinkles up in a tiny smile, hidden behind his knees. He’s so relieved, really, that nothing is wrong with Harry other than a little questioning over his sexuality. It isn’t a big deal, to Louis. “That’s all?” Louis blurts, and Harry peeks up at him through watery eyes and oh. Louis feels abysmal, following Harry’s gaze to that stupid ring on his finger. “Oh, Haz…” Louis sighs. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I…” he trails off, not quite sure what to say.

“It’s not a big deal, okay?” He reassures Harry. Harry nods, packing his emotions away into that tight little box again. To Harry, “not a big deal” means “not important enough to talk about”. It means “keep it to yourself, you can handle it on your own.” Luckily, Louis sees Harry shutting down. 

“No-Harry, listen.” He sighs and retracts his hand from Harry’s limp grip. “Look, I know this is scary for you, but there’s nothing to be scared of.”

“God, Louis. That’s something to be scared of.” Harry counters.

Louis doesn’t know what to say to that. He knows Harry can be a bit tetchy about this stuff. 

“God has nothing to do with this.” Louis declares firmly.

“What are you talking about?” Harry’s reaction is immediate, his eyes going wide in shock. “God has everything to do with this, Lou. It says in the bible that I’m meant to like girls and marry and settle down and have children just like God intended.” He recites the speech like a prayer. He doesn’t say it, but Louis knows. Sex, to Harry, isn’t for his own pleasure. Sex is purely for the purpose of procreation, for repopulating the church and the broader world. 

Sex shouldn’t be religious, Louis thinks. Of all the things that people do, sex seems the most disconnected from God. 

“There’s no handbook, Harry. There’s no proof that what you’re ‘meant’ to do is really what the universe intended, or even that there is any intention. I know you believe in it, and I’m not trying to take that away from you. I’m just saying that this is sort of in your head. It’s your life, Harry. Let yourself write your own rules.” Louis encourages, their eyes locked on one another. 

Louis expects a rebuttal. He expects a weak denial of everything he’s saying, or worse, tears. What he isn’t expecting is soft, warm lips on his.

What he isn’t expecting is for Harry to kiss him, but he does. Harry appears even more startled than Louis is. He springs back immediately, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed even though their mouths barely brushed against one another. “Louis-I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I-I-I don’t…I didn’t think, I’m so sorry, please d-don’t-“ Harry stammers anxiously. He trails off when Louis’ hand cups his cheek. 

“It’s okay, Harry.” Louis smiles gently. He kisses Harry’s nose, first, and Harry goes a bit cross-eyed trying to look at him. 

His lips brush Harry’s tear-stained cheeks, the salt burning at his skin. It’s killing him that Harry cried over this. He wants to break Harry’s silver necklace in two and stop it from ever strangling Harry again. It’s not that he has anything against religion in general, just that he hates what it’s turned Harry into. He hates it for breaking Harry in two: the person that he wants to be, and the person that his parents want, that God wants, that he strives to be. 

Louis leaves the necklace alone and goes for Harry’s lips instead. There are tears sliding down Harry’s cheeks as Louis captures his mouth in a bruising kiss, and Louis brushes them away with his thumb. This time, Harry doesn’t protest. He leans into the kiss, arching up and letting Louis take them wherever he wants to. 

Louis peels back, though, wary of overwhelming him. He pulls away until their lips are just barely brushing and tries not to let his heart skip when Harry follows Louis’ mouth with his own, not wanting the kiss to end. 

He softly pecks Harry’s lips again and again, changing the angle ever so slightly with each gentle brush. His mouth makes its way down Harry’s jaw and chastely brushes across his neck, earning a shiver in response. Harry tugs on his sleeve, leaning back so that he’s laying on the sofa and pulling Louis down on top of him. 

The necklace feels like it’s throbbing against his chest, reminding Harry that this is wrong and boys don’t kiss boys. He nudges Louis up a bit and takes the necklace off, for the first time since his mother put it on him. It might merely be his imagination, but he feels a good bit lighter, afterwards.

\--

Kissing becomes a part of their daily routine, fitting into their easy friendship in a way that doesn’t change their relationship all that much. Louis isn’t pressuring Harry to label himself, or to label them, which. It’s nice, Harry decides, but he wishes Louis would just tell him where they stand. He knows his feelings for Louis didn’t start with kissing, and he knows they don’t end there, either. 

It takes three weeks for him to get the nerve to bring it up. 

\--

“Louis?” He asks softly one afternoon, with his legs hooked around Louis’ waist and Louis’ tongue inside his mouth. He’s already hard, but it doesn’t really phase him anymore. Louis hasn’t ever said anything about how eager Harry’s body gets, even though this has happened almost every single time. He knows Harry doesn’t let himself get off very often-although he doesn’t understand how Harry manages not to die of blue balls-and he chooses not to comment. 

“Lou-jesus, Louis…” He groans, his cheeks going a bit red as Louis licks into his mouth. Louis pulls back, though, resting his forehead on Harry’s. “Mmm?” Louis asks, bumping his nose playfully against Harry’s. 

“What is this?” He asks shyly.

“This is kissing, Harry. And before you go all preacher on me, it’s perfectly okay as long as you’re enjoying it.” He teases.

“No-I mean, er...what are we?” he tries again.

Louis almost says ‘best friends’, but there’s a hesitancy to Harry’s voice that makes him stop. Instead, he responds simply; “what do you want us to be?”

Harry’s response takes a moment. His cheeks go red and his brow furrows and Louis is so tempted to kiss that concentrated, frustrated look off his face when Harry finally blurts “boyfriends, I think.”

That’s. Wow. Louis’ eyes widen, his eyebrows shooting up. 

“Okay.” He says simply, Harry gives him a wary, sort of nervous stare, as if he can’t quite figure out what Louis means. 

“Okay?” Harry prompts.

“Okay, I love you, and we’re boyfriends, if that’s what you want.” Louis grins and kisses Harry’s nose. Harry giggles and turns pink.

“That’s what I want.” He decides. It’s one of the first times Louis has seen Harry willingly reach for something because he wants it, not because his parents want it or he thinks it’s the right thing to do. His heart swells with pride at Harry’s smile. He kind of wants to make Harry smile like that all the time.

\--

If someone had asked Harry what he imagined losing his virginity would be like, he certainly wouldn’t have described this. He would have explained his wedding night, perhaps, with a sweet girl who he was committed to spending the rest of his life with. He would have told them about the incredible holy tryst, the closeness to God that he hoped to feel.

In truth, losing his virginity was possibly the single least spiritual thing that had ever happened to him. 

And he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

\--

Louis’ mouth latches onto Harry’s neck, sucking and nipping and making a mark that Harry won’t mind having to cover up later. Harry is already hard in his jeans, which isn’t unusual, and Louis kindly doesn’t mention it. His fingers twist into Harry’s curls as the two of them kiss passionately, their legs intertwined. He tugs a little, and Harry moans, his hips shooting up.

“Shit-Lou, I’m sorry-” Harry mumbles, embarrassed.

“It’s okay.” Louis tells him easily. A short pause, and then; “do you want that?”

Harry squirms, turns red and tries not to look at Louis as he nods. 

“Okay.” Louis smiles and kisses Harry’s jaw.

“Okay?” Harry asks shyly.

“Not okay.” Louis amends. “Wonderful. Brilliant. Amazing.” He rattles off and Harry giggles and pulls their lips together again. 

It’s Harry that nudges Louis off of him and clings to his hand, leading him into his bedroom. They lay on Harry’s bed for ages, becoming increasingly worked up as their kisses turn passionate and then dirty, hips rolling against each other. “S-shit, Louis-stop, need…” Harry pants, pulling back from the kiss. 

“What is it?” Louis asks, concerned.

“Just. Didn’t want to come. Not yet.” Harry admits, panting softly. Louis brushes his hair back and kisses his cheek, giving Harry a moment to rest. Harry looks so embarrassed and flustered and so Louis kisses him, and assures him that it doesn’t have to be tonight. 

“I want you, though.” Harry decides, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Louis smiles and kisses him again, unbuttoning Harry’s shirt with the hand that’s not too busy holding himself up. He kisses down Harry’s chest and teasingly licks under the waistband of his trousers, trying to rile Harry up and get a reaction. The little whimper Harry lets out is more than enough for him. He unbuttons Harry’s trousers and kisses the tip of his cock through the thin fabric of his briefs, already wet with precome.

“You too…” Harry pants, squirming beneath Louis as he peels off his trousers. Louis glances up, curious.

“Your shirt, c’mon…” Harry smiles sheepishly, and Louis unbuttons his own shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. “Trousers too?” Harry smiles hopefully that cheeky bastard and Louis can’t do anything but comply, not when Harry’s staring at him like that.

And then they’re both in their underwear and Harry can’t quite remember how he got here, but he knows he never wants to leave. Louis is everywhere, on top of him and kissing his cheek, his neck, his chest-oh, his chest-and Harry’s making sounds he didn’t know he was capable of, keening when Louis licks his nipple and moaning wildly when Louis tugs on his curls. 

Louis kisses back up his chest and then suddenly, the heat of his body is gone, and Harry feels lost in a sea of cotton sheets. “What’re you…?” He asks, sitting up on his elbows to find Louis. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, rifling through the drawers. “I don’t have any-er, um...any-”

“Lube?” Louis cuts him off with a giggle. Harry shakes his head sheepishly. 

“S’okay, I have some downstairs.” Louis laughs, and Harry raises an eyebrow.

“I wanted to be ready whenever you were.” Louis explains. It’s more romantic, Harry thinks, than a planned first time with roses and candles. He’s so amazed that Louis’ plan was to wait for him, to be able to give Harry what he wanted whenever he was ready for it. He’s so amazed by Louis. 

Louis returns a few moments later, diving on top of Harry and playfully kissing him. “I missed you,” Harry laughs and kisses Louis breathlessly, until they’re both sweaty and panting and /so/ ready. 

Somewhere along the way, Louis’ hand wraps around Harry’s erection and wow that’s so good, Harry thinks, letting out a low groan before he can stop himself. “Shhh, babe.” Louis smiles, kissing him passionately while his hand tugs gently on Harry’s cock, providing more pleasure than Harry’s own hand ever could.  
They keep kissing, always kissing, and it keeps Harry grounded even when he feels like he’s going to float away in a sea of pleasure and happiness and closeness. Louis’ fingers slowly creep away from his cock and he nudges Harry to roll over, carefully slicking up his finger before pressing the tip inside of Harry. Harry groans and whines, rocking back against Louis. 

He’s unbelievably tight, and Louis can’t wait to get his cock inside that constricting heat. His finger works back and forth, pushing further inside and stretching Harry open. He knows Harry must be in pain, but he doesn’t seem it. In fact, Harry’s face is contorted into a blissful smile, his hips rocking back to meet Louis’ finger.

“L-Lou, more-please,” He begs, so Louis works another finger inside, carefully opening him up. Once Harry relaxes a little, accommodating Louis’ second finger, Louis pulls his digits out. Harry whines in frustration, nearly in tears, hissing “Louis-” before Louis’ fingers are replaced by his tongue, licking hotly at his entrance. 

Harry quickly becomes a babbling mess, rocking back against Louis’ mouth desperately. “O-oh, Lou,” he groans as Louis’ tongue dips inside, licking him open. “Feelssogood, shit” he cries, his fingers scrambling for an anchor in the bedsheets. Louis’ hand brushes up and down his side reassuringly while his tongue expertly opens Harry up.

“Please-Lou, I’m ready.” Harry promises, rutting against the sheets to relieve some of the intense pleasure in his groin. 

Louis kisses up his spine, taking his time to get his mouth on every inch of Harry’s skin. It’s possessive, but it’s more than that. It makes Harry feel loved, and safe, and whole. 

“Protection-” Harry reminds, flinching at the harsh tearing sound the condom makes. Louis laughs at the startled look on his face and presses his lips to Harry’s, only after sliding the condom on. 

“Are you sure?” He asks gently, kissing along the sharp line of Harry’s jaw.

“Yes-yes, I’m sure-Louis, I’m so sure. I want this. I love you.” Harry murmurs, and Louis preens.

“I love you too, you goof.” he teases, kissing Harry passionately to distract from the pain as he slowly pushes inside the tight heat of his body.

Harry’s face immediately scrunches up in pain and Louis almost pulls out. “S’okay, I’m okay-keep. Keep going.” He chokes out. Louis stills, letting Harry get used to the stretch. After a few minutes, Harry nods timidly and Louis pushes further inside him. “Relax, love. You’re doing so well, you feel so good.” Louis moans, making Harry’s cock throb. 

He stills again once he’s buried fully inside of Harry, whose eyes are brimming with tears. Louis kisses him, hoping to distract from the intensity of the pain he feels. “Do you need me to stop?” He offers, but Harry cuts him off with a bruising kiss. 

“N-no, no-don’t, just...need a-a- minute.” He groans, adjusting to the stretch. Slowly, the pain dissipates into pleasure more intense than anything Harry has ever felt. “O-oh, Louis-” He whimpers, throwing his head back. “M-move, please-you can-” He stammers, and Louis experimentally pulls out before pushing back inside. 

Louis moves inside of Harry and Harry pushes back against him rhythmically, making them both moan and cry out each other’s names. It takes only a few minutes for Harry to be sobbing for Louis to go faster, hit that spot again and again and again until he’s coming in streaks across his chest, moaning Louis’ name. Louis follows him over the edge almost instantly. And then they’re both laying there, sated and blissfully exhausted, holding each other, and Harry thinks. 

He grins at the realization that this wasn’t about his religion at all. Him and Louis-what they have doesn’t make Harry better or worse as a child of God. It’s unrelated. It’s about two people, sharing a beautifully reciprocal passion and engaging their bodies to create pleasure. It’s about two people who know each other so well that their bodies tangle effortlessly, creating a breathtaking heat. It’s about Harry, and his love for Louis, and the way they fit together. Like puzzle pieces.


End file.
